


Purple Berries

by dramaq



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Drama, Humor, In Denial, M/M, Magic Reveal, Magical Bond, Pining, Repressed Feelings, Romance, Season 2-3ish, Slow Burn, dramadymance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-21 17:35:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22167244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dramaq/pseuds/dramaq
Summary: Merlin makes a questionable decision to consume some berries and to feed some to Arthur, beginning a series of embarrassing and inconvenient events which force the prince and his servant to confront some repressed feelings.Rated T for now, but will progress in later chapters.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 66





	1. Lost

Chapter 1: Lost

“We’re lost aren’t we, Arthur?”

Arthur turned back to glare at Merlin haughtily. “Don’t be ab _ surd _ .” Arthur continued to ride in front of Merlin at a slow, measured pace, completely unlike his usual brisk cantor. Occasionally, he would squint at a fallen tree or look searchingly up at the sky. Yes. Of course  _ Merlin _ was the one who was absurd.

As dusk crept over the woods, Merlin struggled to suppress a sigh. This wasn’t meant to be an overnight hunting trip, and despite Merlin’s insistence that they pack extra anyway, Arthur had seen to it that they traveled light… mostly by throwing several pillows and an empty wine pitcher at him while he tried to pack.

They weren’t far from Camelot and nowhere near dangerous territory, but that didn’t mean it was impossible to get lost. And Arthur had scoffed when Merlin had suggested they leave markers or actually look at a map.

Suffice to say Merlin was positively bubbling over with ‘I told you so’s.

Arthur abruptly paused, nodded to himself, and gracefully dismounted his horse. “I think here will be good for the night.”

“Arthur…” Merlin slumped. “You said-”

“I  _ said _ that we wouldn’t need our overnight gear because… because it’s good to rough it every now and again.” Arthur confidently strode toward Merlin who was still perched uncomfortably astride his horse. Arthur patted him roughly on the thigh. “It’ll be good for you, anyway. Could serve to man you up, a bit.”

Merlin snorted. “Man  _ me _ up? I’m not the one who sleeps on a feathered mattress with soft feathered pillows and… and probably feathered sheets!”

Arthur rolled his eyes and hit his thigh again, harder. “There’s no such thing as feathered  _ sheets _ , Merlin. My servant should know that.”

“And as your servant I know that you sleep every night with so many feathers you might as well be a bird.”

Arthur flung his arms out dramatically. “A  _ bird _ ?!”

Merlin suppressed a smile and nodded seriously. “Don’t worry, sire. You’re a very pretty one. Like a plump chicken. A very plump chicken.”

Arthur’s eyes flashed. “That’s it.” Arthur grabbed Merlin’s forearm and tugged hard.

Merlin flailed, grasping at the reigns, but Arthur tugged harder and Merlin fell rather ungracefully into a pile of mud.

Merlin groaned and took stock of his body. His arm ached badly where he had landed on it, and his right eye was burning from the mud. He reached to wipe the mud out, and managed to smear more into his eye. Merlin scrambled to a seated position, hands and forearms sliding in the mud. He looked, half-blinded, up at Arthur with some cutting retort on the tip of his lips, half-formed in his brain. But there Arthur was, laughing with his whole body, the last bits of the sunset catching the gleam of his armor, the tips of his golden hair falling into his eyes, and Merlin forgot what he was going to say.

Arthur gathered himself and rolled his eyes at Merlin. “Oh, don’t look so pitiful. I didn’t hurt you, idiot. You’re tougher than that.”

Merlin’s one working eye widened. Was that a compliment?

Arthur sighed and knelt down on one knee, offering his hand. “Here.” Arthur’s face was open and warm, so... unsuspecting. Merlin smiled sweetly up at Arthur then grasped his arm with both hands and pulled him down in one motion. Arthur, gleaming armor and all, crashed into the mud.

“Merlin…” Arthur growled. He had caught himself with his forearms, so there really wasn’t  _ that _ much mud on him. 

Merlin grinned widely. “Oh, is there a problem, sire? I thought we going to  _ rough it _ . Or what was that you said? Man up? Brave knights don’t worry about a little mud.” Merlin reached out his hand to pat Arthur firmly on the cheek, leaving a satisfying brown handprint.

Arthur’s jaw dropped. He swiped at his cheek and looked at the muck on his gloved fingers. “You  _ didn’t _ .”

“Oh, so sorry, sire. Here. Let me get that.” Merlin scooped up a bit of mud and planted it firmly on Arthurs cheek. “There we go!” He rubbed it in in small, firm circles. “Perfect.” Merlin dropped his hand, and Arthur remained frozen, teeth gritted and eyes positively alight with what was probably rage. Merlin had a moment to wonder if he’d possibly taken his teasing a bit too far when he felt the full impact of Arthur’s leather-clad fist on his jaw. Pain seared through his entire face, and before he could lift his head back up, Arthur’s entire body collided into him, and Arthur was  _ heavy _ .

Merlin flailed against Arthur, but his hands only grasped air, mud, and hard chain mail. And then Merlin was face down in the mud, hands pinned behind his back with something hard digging into his spine.

“I think you have something on your face there,  _ Mer _ lin.”

He felt a hand grasp the back of his head, then his face sank deeper into the mud. Merlin squeezed his eyes shut and gasped, sucking in more mud than air. He felt his pulse raging, and his magic tingling at the edges of his skin. Really, pain was a small price to pay for the thrill, for the undivided  _ attention _ . But then again, he really couldn’t breath.

Merlin let his body go limp, a clear concession. Arthur removed the pressure immediately, and Merlin tilted his face up, spat out mud, and breathed deep. Merlin felt two strong hands grip him under the arms, and then he was being lifted into the air. He scrambled to find his feet for a moment, but Arthur held him steady until he did.

“Would you  _ look _ at the state of my armor, Merlin. You’ll have some work to do.”

Merlin’s eyes remained screwed shut, both were burning now. He tried to touch his face with his hands, then tried to wipe his hands onto his tunic, but every inch of him was dripping and filthy.

Merlin heard Arthur sigh. “What’s wrong with you?” He asked, in not an entirely unkind tone.

“Mud in my eyes.” Merlin gestured to his face.

“Don’t be a  _ girl _ , Merlin. Just shake it off.”

Merlin tried to open his eyes, but they burned more.

“Oh come here.” Arthur grabbed him by the elbow, and guided him (rather poorly) a few paces away. “Sit down.”

Merlin made what he could of an indignant look. “I don’t need  _ more _ mud on me.”

“It’s not-” Arthur grumbled. “Just for once, Merlin, do what you’re told. I’m being nice.”

Merlin snorted. “Oh, so nice and kind to punch your manservant in the face.”

“You deserved that.”

Merlin grinned, probably rather stupidly. “I know.”

“Just…  _ please _ sit down.”

Maybe it was surprise at actually hearing ‘please,’ or maybe it was the nearly unbearable pain in his eyes, but Merlin, for once, did as he was told without comment. He sat and felt soft grass beneath his fingertips. He wiped his hands against the grass, and clumps of drying mud fell off. 

Merlin felt a hand tugging his shoulder from behind, and he leaned back as prompted, until the back of his head met something warm and firm. Was that Arthur? Was this Arthur’s  _ lap _ ? Merlin scrambled for some witty remark, but his ears were hot, and his brain was fuzzy, and his  _ eyes _ were still  _ burning _ .

Cold water rushed over his face. Merlin gasped. Then gloveless fingertips were wiping at his eyes and cheeks and forehead.

“Try to open your eyes a little,” said Arthur.

Merlin obeyed, and this time the water rushed into his eyes. He blinked hard and fast. Arthur did it once more, all the while running his fingers over Merlin’s skin, and Merlin really wished he could enjoy it, but having muck and water rushing into one’s eyes is rather distracting.

Merlin sat up and blinked some more.

“Better?” Arthur asked. Surprisingly, he didn’t sound irritated or exasperated.

Merlin turned back to look at him, eyes watering, still blinking. And Arthur was smiling fondly back at him.

Merlin swallowed hard. “Yes. Uh… thanks.”

Arthur shrugged and stood up. He tossed the empty water flask at him. “That was your portion of the water.”

Merlin smacked his lips, suddenly noticing how thirsty he was. “Oh come on!”

Arthur ignored him. “Now go tend to the horses and fetch some firewood.”

Merlin placed a hand on his whining stomach. “There’s no supper is there?”

Arthur was already walking away from him “What do  _ you _ think, Merlin?”

Merlin bit back a comment about packing for an overnight and turned to go get the horses.

* * *

While Merlin was tracking down firewood, Arthur had found a nearby cave for shelter. It was really more of an indent in a cliff face than a proper cave, but at least it kept them somewhat dry. Early evening drizzles had turned to steady rain, and Merlin shivered as close to the fire as he dared. Tiny bits of ember landed on Merlin’s toes and burned his knuckles, but Merlin felt more numb than pain.

Arthur jostled his shoulder. “Come  _ on _ , Merlin.”

Merlin twisted his face and dug his chin into his knees. It hurt. “Come on what?”

“Where’s your senseless prattle? Your prince is getting bored.”

Merlin tilted his head toward Arthur and his neck ached in protest. “May I suggest hiring a court jester?”

Arthur beamed. “I wouldn’t dream of replacing you, Merlin!”

The sensible part of Merlin knew it was only a joke, but something in his stomach still flipped.

“Come on!” Arthur ruffled his hair, and Merlin didn’t duck away. His hand was so warm… “What’s wrong with you?”

Merlin scoffed and presented his blueing fingers. “What’s wrong? You got us lost, and now we’re freezing to death!” Arthur seemed unfazed. “And I’m hungry.”

Arthur laughed. “ _ We _ ’ _ re _ not freezing to death.  _ I _ ’m fine. You…” Arthur grabbed Merlin’s wrist and easily encircled it in his thumb and forefinger. “You’re too skinny.”

Merlin allowed the touch to continue for a moment before snatching his hand away. “Not everyone has the palace kitchens to fatten them up.”

Arthur scoffed, but his smile persisted. “What was that?”

“Just that not everyone benefits from your princely diet.” Merlin felt himself smiling through chapped lips.

“And to think I was going to offer you my knight’s cape!” Arthur pulled his red cape from behind him with a flourish.

Merlin’s eyes widened. He thought about Arthur’s cape--soft and well worn and brilliant--touching his skin. “But I really am cold!” He shivered for effect.

Arthur rolled his eyes. “You’re lucky I’m so chivalrous. Lie down.”

Merlin looked at the cape, then up at Arthur’s face, then back down at the cape again. “What?”

“How did I manage to find such a stupid servant,” Arthur grumbled. He pushed Merlin’s shoulder gently at first then all but manhandled him to the cold stone ground.

“This is worse!” Merlin protested.

“Would you shut up!”

Merlin shifted slightly, tucking his hands under his arms. He lay curled up on his side, facing the fire. He’d always loved watching fires burn at night. When he was a child, he used to spend hours awake past when he should have been asleep, staring into tiny flames burning in the palms of his hands. Perhaps that spoke more to the absence of any real entertainment in Ealdor. Or perhaps he was always in love with the magic inside him that could make something so beautiful. Merlin had to resist blowing on the flames to create art out of ember. Sometimes he liked to make distinctive shapes and pictures, but he liked it best when he allowed the swirling magic to take its own form.

Arthur loudly clanked about behind him. He must be taking off his armor. Merlin shifted again to rest his head on the meat of his arm- what little of it there was anyway. This was going to be a long night.

Then he felt a warmth press in behind him and saw the Camelot-red cape flutter over his shivering body. And Arthur,  _ Arthur _ , breathed hot on Merlin’s neck. Merlin shivered, though not from cold.

“Well I just thought we’d share it,” Arthur supplied, though Merlin hadn’t said anything. Arthur’s hand rested gently on Merlin’s hip, and Merlin had to remember to breathe. “We can’t both freeze to death. Wouldn’t be very sensible.”

“No-” Merlin rasped. He attempted to swallow, then coughed. “No, I suppose not.”

Arthur seemed to take that as an invitation to press closer, every inch of his muscled body lined against Merlin’s back, his thighs, his legs. Merlin’s face flushed hot. He balled the edge of Arthur’s red cape tight in his fist. He wanted to use his magic, felt it buzzing at the tips of fingers, tangling with his breath, but he didn’t know what for. Did he want to slow down time so that he could properly feel and appreciate every beat of Arthur’s heart? Did he want to rise the earth around them both, so they’d be locked together in a private cocoon forever? Or did he want his magic to slither into the cracks between them and push Arthur far away, so that Merlin could shiver alone in peace, untroubled by unwanted thoughts and feelings and sensations... so he didn’t have to wonder at the shape and feel of the word  _ destiny _ and if it could ever be twisted into something less noble…more selfish maybe. If he and Arthur were truly meant-

Arthur snored loudly right into Merlin’s ear, and Merlin startled. He smiled and allowed his muscles to unwind. This was the Arthur he knew. His prat of a prince. His dollop head. His  _ friend _ .

It was a kind, friendly thing to share warmth with a travel companion. And Arthur… though arrogant and irritating and stubborn… was a good companion. And some day he’d be a great king…

Merlin fell into a deep sleep and slept sounder than many nights he’d spent in much drier and warmer places.

* * *

Merlin awoke to the unpleasant sensation of a kick square in the rump. Merlin scrambled up, and looked around, bleary-eyed. “ _ Ow!” _

“Sorry, were you planning on sleeping all day, princess? Get up, and ready the horses!”

Arthur paced around the little cavern, fully dressed and armored. His face was drawn, tense. Merlin carefully peeled himself off the ground. As well as he had slept, he suspected there’d be quite a bit of bruising, or at least stiffness. Merlin’s stomach growled loudly, and he clutched his gut. His stomach felt as if it was cannibalizing itself. “Arthur, I’m hungry.”

Arthur sneered. “ _ Arthur I’m hungry, Arthur I’m cold, _ ” he mocked. “Just who is supposed to be the servant here?!” Arthur stomped toward him, eyes flashing.

Merlin wilted. “Sorry,” he mumbled. Arthur was frequently caustic, but for some reason it hurt more today. Merlin rubbed his stomach miserably. But his stomach definitely hurt more. “Can we just look for some nuts or some berries?”

Arthur took a deep breath, and put his hands on his hips. “You have three minutes to find us breakfast. In  _ three minutes _ I’m leaving with both horses, and you’ll just have to travel on foot.”

Merlin perked up. “Thank you!”

Arthur may have grumbled something as Merlin dashed off, but it was impossible to hear.

Merlin frantically tore through the forest, hunting for mushrooms, berries, nuts, even raw bird eggs would do, but this really wasn’t Merlin’s day. Every mushroom he saw was poisonous, every tree nutless, and every bush barren. Finally, when he thought his three minutes were just about up, he saw in the corner of his eye what was unmistakably a blackberry bush, just like the kind in the woods of Ealdor. He rushed over, but of course, it was picked clean, or else out of season.

“Merlin!” Arthur’s voice echoed through the woods, perhaps 40 yards away. “I’m really going now! Just watch me!”

Merlin knew Arthur was certainly one to follow through on threats. He sighed, and was about to turn away, but then… of course. Merlin smiled. He could always  _ make _ berries. He’d never used his magic in that way before, but well…

Merlin extended his hand over the bush, and let his magic flow freely. Words curled around his tongue and perched upon his lips “ _ Elbloomth _ _ é _ ”

Beautiful, full, berries sprouted from the bush. They weren’t quite blackberries, but they appeared to be a close cousin. Merlin cried out in delight and shoved several into his mouth at once and… It may have been Merlin’s empty stomach talking, but these may have been the most delicious morsels of  _ anything _ he’d consumed in his entire life. So sweet, and juicy, and full, and complex, and soft, even.

“Arthur! I found berries!” Merlin called out. “Wait for me or you won’t get any!”

Merlin took off his neckerchief and quickly fashioned it into a pouch. As swiftly and thoroughly as he could, he picked the bush clean and stumbled back to Arthur cradling his prize.

Arthur held out his hand expectantly, and Merlin carefully removed three berries from his bundle.

Arthur popped the berries in all together, chewed once, then froze. “Hmm-mm,” he said, pointing at his full face.

Merlin laughed. “What?”

Arthur finished chewing and swallowed. “Merlin, what are these? They’re delicious”

“Yeah!” Merlin knelt down on the grass and hurriedly unwrapped the bundle. “I know.”

Merlin and Arthur squatted down around the berries and began shoveling them into their mouths using both hands. For a few minutes nothing occupied Merlin’s mind except the sounds of lips smacking and juice squishing, and the sweet, tart, rich taste of berries.

When Merlin’s neckerchief was empty, Arthur looked up at Merlin with one of his broadest, most disarming smiles. Arthur looked so pure, so innocent.. mainly because his lips and teeth were entirely purple. Merlin couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of his chest.

“What?” Arthur jostled Merlin on the shoulder.

Merlin managed to stifle himself. “Nothing, sire.”

“Merlin…” Arthur warned.

“It’s just that you’ve got a little…” Merlin gestured to his face.

“What?”

“It’s a little purple is all.” Merlin swallowed another peel of laughter. “Your face, sire.” A small giggle escaped. “And your teeth.”

“They are  _ not _ .” Arthur swiped at his face, then looked at his hands, which were also quite purple.

Merlin promptly fell over laughing.

“Shut up, Merlin,” Arthur grumbled, the corner of his purple lips deceptively perked up. “Ah, here we go.” Arthur scooped up Merlin’s neckerchief.

Merlin scrambled back up to a squat. “Wait that’s my-”

“ _ Thank _ you, Merlin.” He wiped it all around his mouth.

“Arthur-”

“And didn’t you say it was on my teeth too?”

“Don’t…”

Arthur wrapped the cloth around two fingers and went about scrubbing his teeth. Merlin cringed.

“There you are.” Arthur held out the neckerchief to Merlin. It was crumpled and purple in places and quite damp with spit.

Merlin frowned at it. That would take quite a bit of laundering.

“Allow me.” Arthur moved toward Merlin, and by the time Merlin could read Arthur’s intentions, it was too late. Arthur had fastened Merlin’s soiled spit-damp neckerchief around his neck. Tightly. He could feel the moisture on his skin.

Now Arthur looked like his was holding back a laugh. “Let’s get on then!”

* * *

Arthur spent half the morning finding the path back to Camelot, and from there it was still a few hours ride back home.

Along the way, Merlin had removed the crumpled neckerchief and tucked it into his pocket.

Only when they were less than an hour from the city gates did the thought occur to Merlin: “Wait, Arthur. Does  _ my _ mouth look all purpled?”

Arthur shrugged. “Of course, Merlin.”

“You weren’t going to  _ tell _ me?”

Arthur flashed a surprisingly clean smile back at Merlin. “Well it doesn’t matter what a servant looks like.”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “His royal highness however…”

“Exactly,” Arthur smirked. “Good thing I’m always quite… dashing.”

A private part of Merlin silently agreed, but he scoffed. “You’d have to be to make up for that big head of yours. Very disproportional.”

“Merlin…” Arthur made a swipe at Merlin, but Merlin maneuvered away. Merlin brought his horse to a quick cantor, and Arthur followed close at his heels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I've been a fanfic writer since I was in high school (on ff.net of course). After a long time away, I'm really excited to have found room in my life to let fanfic back in! Merlin has always been one of my favorite fandoms, and I'm so happy to contribute. Thank you for your support! :)


	2. Diagnosis

Chapter 2: Diagnosis

After Arthur’s unsuccessful hunting trip, life in the palace went back to normal. Or rather, the kind of normal absent of evil sorcerers or curses or attempts on the prince’s life (for the moment anyway).

The next day, Merlin woke up the irate prince, dodged some common household objects, ran errands for Gaius, did his chores, and suffered some verbal and physical abuse about how well (or rather, not well) he’d done his chores. Nothing seemed amiss. As usual, when Merlin returned from one of his trips with Arthur, particularly their more private ventures, Merlin was feeling a little depressed. When Arthur was away from Camelot he was… different… certainly more relaxed, and while not exactly open, not entirely closed off either. And it wasn’t that he treated Merlin  _ well _ per se, but out in the woods, Arthur seemed… warmer. As if they were truly friends. Coming back home was always a bit of a jolt. It felt like their lines of communication were violently and harshly shut down, and Merlin was left cold.

So as Merlin was polishing Arthur’s boots, he was feeling a little sad, perhaps a bit more than usual, but again, nothing out of the ordinary. He did feel a little restless inside, perhaps a little impatient, and this was new, but not exactly strange.

Only when it was time for the knights’ training did Merlin begin to feel something was truly off.

It wasn’t perceptible at first. Merlin watched Arthur walk confidently around his men, pronouncing orders and gesturing with his sword. Perhaps Merlin’s heart sped up a little then, but Merlin was used to brushing that off. It wasn’t good to perseverate on the way Arthur’s shoulders looked as he pointed and flexed and moved about. It wasn’t helpful to watch the way his blue eyes focused and his pink lips pursed as he closely analyzed the movements of his men. And when Arthur paused to squint up at the bright sun and wipe the glistening sweat from his forehead, pushing back his soft bangs, okay  _ maybe _ Merlin was feeling a little overheated himself. But Merlin was sitting in the sun too, and this was uncommonly warm weather for Autumn, so still not so strange. Nothing to lose sleep over or waste daydreams on.

But then Arthur faced off with Sir Leon. Merlin would never tell him this, of course, but Arthur was truly a master with a sword. He came at his opponent so aggressively and so precisely, that many were overpowered at once. But he was also able to deftly jump away, dodging under and around his opponent’s blade. Watching him was like watching art come alive. Sir Leon was a skilled opponent himself and truly allowed Arthur to shine, meeting him blow for blow, maneuvering and outmaneuvering.

Merlin was so wrapped up in the fight that he didn’t notice at first: his heart was beating too fast. Much too fast. Here Merlin was, seated, relaxed, doing nothing but watching, but his heart was hammering, hard. He heard his own breath before he felt it. Deep, quick gasps for air. And then sweat was pouring out of every crevice of his body, stinging his eyes.

Merlin’s heart had beat fast from fear before or from other… emotions. But this felt different. Merlin felt as if he were sprinting through the forest, running at top speed for his very life. But was he afraid… or exhilarated?

Merlin felt at his heaving chest, scratched at his throat, but there was nothing there. Could this be magic?

_ Hello?  _ Merlin sent out a psychic cry for help, but no magic user responded. He collapsed to the ground. He was alone, sweat-slick and panting.

And then, all at once, the knights were around him. Over the rushing in his ears, he heard his name called. Hands patted his arms and felt at his face. He was pulled to a seated position. Someone handed him water. Then Arthur’s face was right before him, glistening from sweat, hair matted to his forehead. Arthur was breathing heavily too, matching Merlin breath for breath. Arthur grasped Merlin by the shoulders and looked into his face.

“Merlin?” Arthur gasped. “Merlin?”

Merlin’s heart was already slowing, his breath steadying. The pearls of sweat on his skin cooled, and he shivered though his face still felt hot.

Arthur’s breathing had steadied too. “You’re okay?” Arthur asked quietly, almost privately, despite being surrounded by knights.

Merlin looked around sheepishly “I-I’m sorry guys. I don’t know-”

“Someone had better take him to Gaius,” Arthur commanded. He stood up and stepped away, and two knights stepped in and pulled Merlin up, each by an arm.

Merlin found his footing and pulled away from the knights. “N-no I’m fine.” Merlin took stock of his body. Physically, his body was all in order, mobile and painless--the racing heart, the heat, the heavy breaths, all distant echoes. In the pit of his stomach, he felt something like dread or worry, but he chalked it up to a vague sense of unease. “Really!” Merlin flapped his arms up and down, as if that would prove a point.

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Fine. But get yourself to Gaius now. And that’s an order.”

Merlin held his hands up in defense and backed away. The knights swarmed back to Arthur, and Arthur resumed commanding their training exercises. The knight’s clanking and grunting and exertion faded behind Merlin as he hurried back into the castle.

* * *

Gaius was appropriately concerned when Merlin had explained what had happened, and he insisted on a thorough examination. When Gaius was through poking and prodding Merlin, he leaned back in his chair slowly and fixed Merlin with a careful gaze.

“Well,” Merlin prompted. “What’s wrong with me?”

“That’s just the thing,” Gaius mused. “Absolutely nothing.”

Merlin drooped a little. “So it’s magic, then.”

“Not necessarily, Merlin.” Gaius stood and shuffled over to his book shelf. “We must first rule out all possible medical maladies.” Gaius carefully ran his fingers over the spines of his books. “You were recently on a hunting trip with Arthur…”

Merlin smiled to himself. “More trip than hunting.”

“Did you come into contact with anything strange? Any unfamiliar herbs? Any sick or oddly behaving animals?” Gaius selected a book and brought it back over to their wooden table where it landed with a rattling thump.

“No, nothing like that.” Merlin pulled at his neckerchief (the blue one, the red hadn’t been washed yet). It was starting to feel a bit stifling in Gaius’ crowded chambers.

“Did Arthur shoot down anything?” Gaius began paging through his book. “Or lay traps for supper?”

Merlin snorted. “I wish. He wasn’t prepared for an overnight and had us going hungry.” Merlin rubbed at his chest. He was feeling tense… or nervous. His heart began to pick up speed.

“Well you’re certainly not used to going hungry,” Gaius mused. “Neither is Arthur.”

“Well we did eat some…” Merlin gasped. “Some berries.”

“Merlin?” Gaius raised his eyes from his book. “Merlin!”

It was happening again. The heart pounding and the sweating and the gasping. His lungs were burning.

Gaius maneuvered Merlin to the ground. Merlin pulled at his shirt and squirmed on the ground and Gaius fluttered around him, feeling and prodding and measuring.

“Am I… having…” Merlin gasped. “A heart-”

“Don’t try to speak Merlin,’ Gaius commanded, pressing two fingers to Merlin’s throat. “And quite the contrary. Your pulse is abnormally high.”

Gaius left for a moment and returned with a cold compress and a pillow to slip under Merlin’s head. He settled on the floor by Merlin’s side and held his hand, murmuring, “there, there. There, there.” Merlin, who had attended many patients with Gaius, knew idle hands were not a good sign.

“Gaius…” he struggled. “Am I… dying?”

“I don’t believe so, Merlin.”

“You don’t … believe?”

“Don’t try to talk, Merlin.” Gaius firmly pressed a finger to Merlin’s lips.

Merlin nodded and settled back onto the pillow. He slipped his eyes closed and called upon his magic, not in any visible way. Just to feel it. His magic swirled under his skin and rushed in circles around his body. This part of himself, at least, was healthy. 

With his eyes closed, his physical form didn’t feel so sickly either. He felt the sensation of running again, of moving quickly, of using and exerting his arms and his muscles until he felt a nice pleasing burn. He was two bodies wrapped into one. One lay absolutely motionless on the floor, and the other was powerful, strong, quick, pushing the limits of his form. Adrenaline. He was feeling a rush of adrenaline.

And then, minutes or hours later, his heart slowed and his breath steadied. Without a word, Gaius helped Merlin back into his seat and offered him a cup of water and a clean cloth.

Merlin gulped down the water all at once, then leaned back, relieved. He placed the cup down on the table and patted at his face with the cloth.

Gaius watched all this silently, studying him carefully. “How are you feeling?” he ventured.

“Better.” Merlin dabbed at the back of his neck. “Much better.” His hand stilled he brought a hand to his stomach. He felt uneasy again, much as he had after his last attack. “Maybe a bit weird. I think I’m worried.”

Gaius nodded. “I don’t mean to frighten you, Merlin, but I am too. In my many years of study, I don’t believe I’ve seen any ailment quite like yours.”

Merlin nodded. “Magic then?”

Gaius leaned back thoughtfully. He began to turn back to his book, then paused. “You said you ate something. On your trip with Arthur.”

Merlin’s mouth watered at the memory. “Yes. The most delicious berries I’ve ever tasted. Arthur said so too.”

Gaius nodded. “And these berries were unfamiliar to you?”

Merlin considered. “At first I thought it was a blackberry bush, but the berries turned out quite different. They were more purple. And a bit larger. But the same shape and texture.”

Gaius nodded. “You wouldn’t happen to have brought any back with you? Or a sample of the leaf?”

Merlin shook his head. Any extra berries definitely would not have survived the trip back. However… “I do have something!”

Merlin rushed over to his laundry pile and returned with the spit and berry-stained neckerchief. He held it up to Gaius, grinning.

Gaius wrinkled his nose. “That’s hardly an appropriate sample.” Gaius extended his thumb and forefinger, pinched the cloth, and carefully laid it down on the table. “Merlin, fetch me my magnification glass. And see if you can’t find your berry bush in one of my botanical volumes.”

Merlin did as Gaius bid, then settled in to study alongside him. By this time, Merlin’s body had all but returned to normal, but the knot in his stomach, the hard and nagging feeling of anxiety, persisted.

Merlin flipped through Gaius’ volume quickly, while Gaius made focused humming noises beside him.

Gaius put the soiled neckerchief and the glass down on the table. “Now, it’s quite difficult to tell from this… sample. But this berry juice seems to have some unusual qualities.”

“There.” Merlin’s finger froze above a sketch. “I found it. It’s a…” Merlin’s finger skimmed over to the caption under the drawing. “A blackberry bush.”

Gaius sighed. “Well you must be mistaken, Merlin, for this is no blackberry. Blackberries aren’t even remotely in season.”

“Well…” Merlin’s eyes darted to the closed door, then back to Gaius. “I did, um,  _ encourage _ them to grow.”

Gaius stood up. “You used  _ magic _ with Arthur?!”

Merlin looked down at his lap. “Well he was nowhere near-”

“At a time when your lives aren’t in danger you should never-”

The door slammed open.

Merlin leapt to his feet, and his chair crashed to the ground.

“Well you seem fine.” It was Arthur.

For a brief, terrible moment, Merlin thought he’d finally been caught, exposed for something so silly as breakfast. But Arthur was standing in the doorway with his hands confidently on his hips, smile broader than his shoulders, and Merlin allowed himself to breathe. An odd expression crossed Arthur’s face, but it was gone again in a moment, and Arthur crossed the room to stand by him.

Arthur looked to Gaius. “What was wrong with him? Well…” he smirked, eyes darting to Merlin. “...aside from the usual.”

Gaius gave Merlin a brief, hard look before turning back to Arthur. “It’s nothing to worry about, sire. A simple allergic reaction.” He paused. “Well that is…” Gaius looked again to Merlin, brows furrowed.

“So he’s ready to work again then.” Arthur thumped Merlin on the back, and Merlin stumbled into the table.

“If I may, sire.” Gaius rested his hands on the back of his wooden chair. “I’d like to inquire about your health as well.”

Arthur gave him an incredulous look. “ _ My _ health? Do I look unwell?”

“Of course not, sire.” Gaius gestured to an empty seat, and Arthur sat. Merlin picked up his own chair from the floor and sat beside him. “I have reason to believe you may have ingested something on your hunt which may be causing certain… reactions. Merlin said he...” his eyes flashed to Merlin “... _ found _ some berries?”

“ _ Mer _ lin!” Arthur smacked the back of Merlin’s head.

“Ow!” Merlin protested.

“You served me poison berries!”

Merlin rubbed at the back of his head and cringed away. “You said you liked them!”

“That was before I knew they were poisoned!”

“No, sire,” Gaius interjected. “Not exactly poisoned. Based on the evidence…” Gaius waved at Merlin’s crumpled, berry-stained neckerchief, still on the table, and Arthur had the grace to look a little embarrassed. “I believe those berries were under some kind of enchantment. And,” Gaius continued, “there was no way for Merlin to know.” Merlin shot Gaius a grateful smile, which the old man ignored.

Arthur nodded, his face quickly sobering. “Are we in imminent danger? I am… hesitant to bring this to my father’s attention.”

Gaius tapped his finger on the wooden chair back. “I don’t believe that would be wise at this time. I regret to say that I do not know the exact effects of this enchantment. I wouldn’t want to concern the King before we have a clear course of action.”

“Of course,” said Arthur. “We wouldn’t want to worry him.” Arthur glanced over to Merlin, and Merlin felt an uncomfortable swelling in his chest. “As long as you’re sure that Merlin… that we’re safe.”

“Certainly. For the moment.” Gaius carefully sat in his chair and leaning forward on the table. “Tell me, Arthur, what were you doing about twenty or so minutes before you came in here?”

Arthur opened his mouth, as if to say something rude or dismissive, but then he locked eyes with Merlin, seemed to think better of it, and instead said, “I was training with the knights.” Merlin felt a twisting in his gut.

“And what precisely were you doing at that time?”

Arthur smiled and leaned back in his chair. “I was demonstrating my excellent swordwork with Sir Leon. We were…” his voice dropped. “...interrupted earlier.”

Gaius nodded. “And would you say you were physically exerting yourself?”

Arthur sat a little straighter in his chair. “I can assure you I am in excellent shape.”

Merlin reached over and patted Arthur’s chest.

“ _ What _ are you doing, Merlin?”

Merlin pinched a bit of Arthur’s shirt and looked at Gaius. “The patient is sweaty.”

Arthur wrested Merlin’s hand away and grabbed a fistful of Merlin’s tunic, pulling him almost out of his chair. “ _ You’re _ the sweaty one. I  _ glisten _ .”

Merlin grasped Arthur’s clenched fist with both hands and struggled to pull it away. “I was sick! You came to check on me!”

Arthur twisted the fabric of Merlin’s tunic in his fist and yanked Merlin forward, nearly out of his seat. Merlin could feel the muscles in Arthur’s wrist flexing. He swallowed. “I needed to catch my lazy servant before he ran off to the tavern again!”

“Boys please!”

Merlin and Arthur both turned their heads to Gaius. Arthur shoved Merlin back and released him. Merlin’s shoulders hit the back of the chair hard. His face felt hot.

Arthur cleared his throat. “My deepest apologies, Gaius.” Arthur looked over to Merlin. His cheeks were tinged pink. Merlin almost laughed. Arthur kicked him under the table.

“Oh! Um… sorry Gaius.”

Gaius’ eyes shifted slowly between Merlin and Arthur, his distinctive eyebrow raised. Merlin could almost see the mechanism of his brilliant mind shuffling pieces into place. Merlin’s face grew hotter still. Gaius had the quality of making one feel very seen, to the point of discomfort. At last Gaius nodded.

“I believe I will have some further research to conduct on this matter. But for the moment,” Gaius fixed his gaze on Arthur. “You must restrain from such strenuous activity.”

Arthur’s mouth twisted. “With all respect, Gaius. I haven’t shown any symptoms. Is it really necessary-”

“I’m sure the knights will understand if you instruct them from the sidelines for the time being.”

Arthur nodded respectfully, but his face remained openly unhappy. Merlin felt his chest tighten and his muscles tense. Merlin opened his mouth to report it to Gaius but then… he wasn’t entirely sure that this feeling was unnatural. He wasn’t short of breath and his pulse remained steady. Privately, Merlin resolved to more closely monitor his body. If he was on the verge of another attack, it would be useful to have warning.

Arthur stood, and his chair scraped loudly against the plain wood panels. “Thank you for looking into this, Gaius. And for your… discretion. When new information comes to light-”

“I will bring word to you immediately, sire, and we can inform Uther together. If necessary.”

“If necessary,” Arthur agreed.

Merlin looked up at Arthur’s serious face--his strong jawline and his clear, focused gaze. It was in these moments Merlin could best catch a glimpse of the man… of the great king Arthur would grow into.

Arthur slapped Merlin on the back of the head.

“Ow!”

“Come, Merlin.” Arthur was already walking toward the door. “You need to fetch my supper. I’m famished.” Merlin suddenly noticed his own whining stomach. Odd, since he’d eaten just before Arthur’s training. Arthur paused at the door, and looked back at him. “ _ Mer _ lin!”

Merlin jumped up, bumped his knee on the way, and scrambled to push in the chair. “Sorry, sire!”

Arthur strode out of the room, confident that Merlin would follow at his heels. Merlin took one step, then turned back to Gaius. This may be one of the final moments Merlin would have alone with Gaius for several hours.

“So it is my fault?”

Gaius sighed deeply. “You were being very foolish, Merlin,” he chided, “but you shouldn’t worry. The effects of this magic on you and Arthur will not put either of you in danger, as far as I’m aware.”

Merlin took a step toward Gaius. “So you  _ do _ know what the effects are?”

“ _ MERLIN!” _ Arthur’s voice echoed through the halls.

Gaius smiled indulgently. “You should go before he gets angrier.”

Merlin felt his heart jump into his chest. His mouth went dry. “But…” he coughed. “Do you?”

Gaius looked at Merlin carefully. “I have an idea.” He nodded at the door. “You should go.”

Merlin sighed and spun around. Sometimes Gaius could be as cryptic as Kilgarrah. He hurried toward the door. It was hard to concentrate with his heart racing and this feeling of… anger. Was he angry? Or irritated.

As Merlin stepped out of the room he saw Arthur at the end of the long hallway. The moment Arthur saw him, he turned the corner. Merlin hurried to catch up. Yes, irritation felt about right at the moment. Would it be too much for Arthur to show a  _ little _ more concern after his manservant collapsed? Merlin turned the far corner, but Arthur was out of sight again. He decided to head toward the kitchen, rather than Arthur’s chambers. The feeling of irritation was fading, replaced by… something unpleasant. Hunger. Mostly hunger. Hopefully Merlin could steal some scraps from the kitchens before returning to Arthur.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I'm having so much fun writing this!  
> I am wondering if anyone was able to guess the impact of Merlin's magic berries. I left a lot of hints. Not sure if I was too obvious...
> 
> The truth should be revealed in the next chapter, I think.


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